


Hand in Glove

by seasidh



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexting, Spanking, abuse of commas and brackets, i guess like the whole prof/student thing, is that a thing?, poorly formatted texting, sex in inappropriate places, use of shark memes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5414702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasidh/pseuds/seasidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Joseph Liebgott is forced to take a freshman english course his last year of university - at the threat of not completing his degree otherwise - he's deeply annoyed. Until he meets his new professor that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously fiction based on a fiction based on a fiction about real people. No disrespect to the real men intended. 
> 
> There is some serious comma abuse and honestly some real parentheses abuse too. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine and hatemail can be addressed to me directly.

Joseph Liebgott sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair in his advisor’s office while he watched the man clicking and scrolling at his computer. He was surprised when Lipton had emailed him, asking for this meeting about his upcoming class schedule. Normally program advisor’s didn’t spend so much time with students, but Joe and Lip had developed a fairly close relationship over the last three years. It didn’t hurt that Lipton was the type to go above and beyond the call of duty and had a bit of a ‘mother-hen’ quality to his approach to advising students under his care. “I don’t know how you managed it this long Joe but you can’t avoid it anymore.” He said at last, turning to look at the bedraggled looking young man sitting in front of him. Joe groaned and shook his head but before he could voice whatever complaint was on his tongue Lipton spoke up. “Joe, you are as good as accepted into the Master’s program, we both know it, but without this credit you won’t get your degree.” He said calmly before his brow furrowed in frustration. “Jesus Joe, it’s an English credit. Just pick a class that has E-N-G in it and do it already.” He said with exasperation.

Joe groaned again. “Fine. What are my options again?” Lip passed the list over the desk to Joe with an apologetic look. Joe scanned the list and frowned. “These are all first year classes.” He said flatly. 

Lipton nodded. “Well, ideally you would have taken this in your first year.”

Liebgott turned back to the list of classes in front of him. His eyes fell on Romantic Period Literature. He didn’t really know what that meant but he was picturing those bodice rippers and erotic poetry, some novel with a muscle bound Fabio look-alike and a generic big titted girl with long flowing hair adorning the cover. The idea made him smirk. He could use it as inspiration, do a whole series of pin-up slash ‘Romantic Period Literature’ inspired work. If he had to suffer through a class with kids fresh out of highschool that was fine. He could make this sacrifice. For his degree. He slammed his finger down on the class. “This one.” He said with finality.

Lip raised his eyebrow at him but didn’t try to dissuade him. “Alright then.” He said, just glad to be done with it. Joe would get his degree, get into the Master’s program and Carwood Lipton could rest easy, knowing he’d done the best for one of his charges. Even if Joseph Liebgott tended to be more work than most. That was just Joe’s nature, and it was one that tended to grow on you.

****

Joe was already in a bad mood when he opened the door to an empty lecture hall. He stood at the front of the class and cursed loudly, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. It was five minutes to one. He growled and dug in the bag slung over his shoulder to double check his schedule. “Fucking shit fuck.” He muttered under his breath. He had the wrong time and now was facing waiting around for a half an hour for the class to start. He hadn’t wanted to take this class in the first place but his degree was practically being held hostage in exchange for some shitty English credit. On top of that, he’d skipped the first class, well aware that only Freshmen went to the first class. Everyone knew that the only thing that happened at the first class was some general “welcome to my class, it’ll change your life” speech by the professor and the traditional ‘bestowing of the syllabus’. Which was a waste of time considering every professor posted the syllabus on the students portal. Well, every professor except for one David K. Webster, Professor of English. Joe rolled his eyes. _‘Probably doesn’t even know how to use a computer.’_ Joe thought bitterly. Liebgott had been having increasingly unfavourable thoughts to a certain Professor Webster since he picked up his reading list. He wasn’t sure who the fuck Wordsworth, Keats or Byron were - though he was well enough acquainted with Frankenstein, he suspected he would be underwhelmed by Mary Shelley’s original work - but he got the general idea that he’d been wildly wrong about what Romantic Period Literature meant. He’d picked up the required books - not at the student bookstore of course, (that was a Freshmen money pit) used was where it was at - and skimmed through them. His imaginings of silly trashy romance novels and erotic poetry were quickly replaced by images of stuffy old men with stiffly starched suits and greying moustaches. This class was going to be a nightmare and he could only imagine what the professor teaching it would be like. Probably some rotund little man, on the wrong side of fifty and in complete denial about his growing bald spot. He would wear bulky cardigans the colour of baby poop with worn out elbows and a yellowing button up shirt, stretched tight over a belly that would be toppling over his old man pants. Pants that would, of course, be hiked up to just below his nipples and cinched with the ugliest, most utilitarian belt known to mankind. Joe could practically hear his nasally voice, droning on about the themes and metaphors of some dead poets no one gave a shit about. Joe physically cringed at the image. He was just debating with himself about whether he should just leave and see if he could get wait listed in some other english credit course, preferably something less boring, when the door behind him opened with a squeal. Joe whipped around, startled out of his inner debate only to be smacked in the face with the overwhelming sense of _blue_. He blinked a few times and stared at the man who had just walked into the theatre, laptop bag slung over his shoulder and book tucked under his arm. His thick hair was a dark brown, almost black, and a little unruly, as if he had a tendency to run his hands through it when he was concentrating on something. He had a strong, square jaw covered in what was more than stubble but less than a beard. That overwhelming sense of blue Joe had first noticed was the man’s eyes. Joe wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone with such clear blue eyes before. The man was wearing well-fitted, dark grey slacks with a slim-fit dress shirt in a deep maroon colour tucked into them. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up his forearms, showing off his nicely muscled arms and Joe admired the way the fabric stretched across his broad chest. He had the very sudden and very strong desire to press his body flush against that broad chest and those clearly well muscled arms and legs and bury his hands in that hair. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked. He could almost feel that thick facial hair scrape across his jaw, could almost taste the sharp tang of salt on skin bursting on his tongue. He shook his head and huffed out a surprised noise. 

The stranger was halfway from the door to Joe when he looked up and saw Joe standing there. “Oh, hi!” He said cheerily, flashing him a warm grin. Joe groaned internally. He was even prettier when he smiled. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.” He said sheepishly.

Joe crossed his arms over his chest lightly and smirked, cocking his hip to lean against one of the desks at the front. “Well, for now it’s just you and me.” His smirk widened, turning a little predatory. “Lucky for me.” He said, winking. The other man blushed noticeably and shuffled on his feet, sending a little thrill down Liebgott’s spine. He dropped his arms and leaned back on the desk. “Though I understand there’s going to be a class filing in here soon enough.” He said with resignation and tipped forward at the waist slightly, smiling genuinely. 

The man dropped his book on the desk at the front of the room, right across from Joe, and leaned against it, matching Joe’s posture. “You know, I did hear about that class, so I think your luck may be running out soon.” He said teasingly.

Joe laughed and took a moment to rake his eyes over the other man. Joe clocked him at maybe a few years older than him - early thirties? Probably another student who just happened to show up early. Joe tilted his head to the side appraisingly. Maybe not, he was probably too old to be a student. Maybe a TA? “That’s too bad, here I was thinking I was going to spend the next hour or so talking to a handsome stranger with the prettiest baby blues I’ve ever seen.” 

The stranger blushed again and ducked his head, shrugging lightly. “I guess we’re both out of luck then.” He said, raising his eyes to meet Joe’s. Then his brow creased slightly in confusion. “What are you doing here though?” He asked.

Joe shrugged. “I’m actually in that class, got the time wrong.” He said somewhat bitterly.

The stranger frowned. “You’re…” he paused and blinked at Joe. “You’re in the next class?” He asked hesitantly.

Joe wasn’t sure why the other guy seemed so confused about him being in the next class. Sure, it was a freshman course and Joe was clearly not a freshman but it wasn’t that unusual. He wasn’t the only fourth year university student who’d shirked getting a necessary credit. “Yea,” he said resignedly. “I need an English credit before I can get my degree, which is bullshit honestly.” He huffed and shook his head. “Plus, I pretty much randomly picked this class off a list and man am I regretting it.” He dropped his voice like he was letting the other man in on a secret. “The books this guy picked as required reading? I mean come on!” He scoffed. “So fucking boring. Plus, dude has to be some middle aged asshole who hasn’t figured out computers.” Joe cocked his eyebrows at the other man. “Did you notice he didn’t put the syllabus on the student portal? What the fuck is that about?” As he was talking he noticed the other guy getting visibly uncomfortable. He’d stuffed his hands in his pockets and his mouth had drawn down in a thin line. “I mean, sorry if you’re like, excited about taking this class. Or…” he shrugged. “Are like the TA or something.” He laughed. “Shit I’m really sorry if you’re the TA.” He smiled at the guy, hoping his joke would land. It very obviously did not. He was still leaning against the desk but now he was clearly eyeing up Joe, and not in the good way. Joe suddenly felt a little self-conscious. He was wearing some ripped up skinny jeans with paint splatters on them - hazard of being an art student - and an X-Men t-shirt that was probably a size or two too big, the neck line stretched out and sitting askew off his shoulder. Compared to the other man’s composed outfit Joe looked all the part of university student, and this man certainly did not. “Shit. You’re the fucking TA aren’t you?” He finally asked.

The other man dragged his eyes from the jut of collarbone peeking out from Joe’s too large shirt and met Joe’s eyes. He shook his head. “No. I’m not the TA.” He replied.

Joe furrowed his brow and was about to speak when the door at the back of the theatre opened and students started filing in. The other man looked at his watch and pushed off the desk. Joe stepped forward and put his hand out in a placating gesture. “Hey man, I don’t know what I said that has you playing this whole ‘dark and brooding’ thing but I gotta tell you. It is not making you any less hot.” He tried again for light and flirtatious, hoping to somewhat salvage the situation. When the other man didn’t reply, just stared at Joe blandly, Joe nodded. “Well, whatever man.” He stuck out his hand. “Joe Liebgott, nice to meet you.”

The other man looked at Joe’s proffered hand before finally extending his own and taking it in a firm grip. “David Webster.” He intoned dryly.

Joe’s face fell. “Well shit.” He exclaimed, dropping Webster’s hand. He stepped back slightly, feeling his face grow hot. Webster didn’t say anything, just blinked at him. Joe decided that it would be better to just shut his mouth and take a seat instead of further embarrassing himself. He quirked his eyebrows in some awkward acknowledgement of his own fuck up and turned to grab a seat. When he slid into his seat, more students filing in around him, he looked back up and noticed Webster still staring at him with a dark expression on his face. Dark and, something else, something almost hungry. Joe smirked at him before turning his attention to unpacking his bag. Before they’d known who the other was they’d been flirting. David Webster had definitely - albeit awkwardly - flirted with him. Maybe with Professor Hottie McDaddy teaching this class, and there being a definite attraction towards Joe, this whole english credit nightmare wouldn’t be such a nightmare. Joe grabbed his pen off the desk and brought it to his mouth, chewing on the end idly and noting how Webster was still watching him. Specifically noting how Webster’s eyes tracked the pen from hand to mouth. Joe grinned around the pen in his mouth. Yea, he was definitely seeing the upside to this whole situation. He could definitely work with this.

****

Webster tried not to take pride in being one of the youngest professors at UC Berkeley. Honestly, he didn’t have time or security enough to be proud. He was just starting his second year and although he had spent time as a TA and had some experience, he was still finding his stride as a professor. Finding his voice so to speak (though Leckie had ribbed him mercilessly about that when he’d spoken that thought aloud _“Christ David could you be more pretentious?”_ ) and a reason for kids to want to take his classes. He’d spent a good portion of his summer refining his lesson plans, carefully selecting every book he’d require students to read, thoughtfully crafting assignments that would have the students really interact with the work. By the time the first classes of the semester came around he was at least halfway satisfied with his work. He remembered last year he’d been an absolute wreck, obsessing over every test and assignment, terrified that he wasn’t teaching these kids anything. He still had some of those fears, hovering at the back of his mind, sniping at him in weak moments but going into his second year, he was much more confident. That was, of course, before he met Joseph Liebgott. 

When he walked into his second Romantic Period Literature class to set up he was surprised to find the young man standing there. Especially since that man looked like everything David Webster had a weakness for and was currently flirting with him. He’d tried, he really had, to be unaffected by that cocky grin, that soft brown hair (that was styled in what could only be called a _bouffant_ ) and those warm brown eyes. After all, David knew it was unwise to reciprocate the flirting but he was obviously too old to be a student. The previous class had only let out half an hour ago, he was probably hanging around after that for some unknown reason. Or at least, so David had thought. When the man said he actually was in David’s class, David felt his breath catch in his throat and his stomach drop. When he then went on to insult David personally (although entirely unknowingly), well, that was just good for killing whatever crush David had started forming. The kid (and at this point Joe had firmly been relegated from man to kid) was a complete ass. Blathering on about how the required reading was boring! Byron, Shelley and Emily Dickinson were anything but boring. He even had a whole unit on Poe for christ’s sake! How anyone could think that would be boring was beyond him. Nonetheless, David was certain: Joe’s rambling about what an incompetent idiot David himself must be was nothing but a good thing. How he’d even momentarily entertained the idea that this man _(kid dammit)_ was attractive was a mystery. Sure he had to literally drag his eyes away from those delicious _(no, not delicious. Terrible. Horrible.)_ collarbones poking out of his t-shirt, and yes, maybe his hand was still tingling from when he’d shook Joe’s hand, but he was not going down that road. So what if he maybe made more eye contact with Joe than anyone else during his lecture? It was no big deal that every time Liebgott smirked around that pen in his mouth _(looking for all the world like the seductive twink from some straight to gay porn goddammit Webster no)_ that Webster’s breath hitched just that little bit. That knowing smirk and teasing wink that Joe kept leveling at him didn’t mean anything. 

No, Joseph Liebgott was not going to be a problem for David Webster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, chapter one. Nice. This fic is sort of taking over my Sledgefu fic at the moment due to real life shit going on and my desire to not be sad. You can't be sad with Webgott. 
> 
> Title is from the song by the same name by The Smiths because we all know Liebgott would listen to The Smiths. So would Webster actually, but for entirely different reasons.
> 
> Follow me at my tumblr if you'd like zombieeme.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webster finds that dealing with Liebgott isn't as easy as he was expecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super thrilled with this chapter but if I look at it any longer I'll lose my mind.
> 
> Disclaimer: as always this is a work of fiction based on a work of fiction that is based on a work of fiction. No disrespect meant to the real men whatsoever.

Joseph Liebgott was going to be a huge problem for David Webster. 

Five classes into the semester and Webster was a complete wreck. Five classes. Seven and a half hours. Joseph Liebgott had made it his mission to absolutely torture David and he was succeeding. The first day after The Encounter (as David had taken to calling it in his mind) Liebgott had shown up to class right on time and claimed a desk, sprawling in the chair. He didn’t speak to Webster, didn’t even make eye contact, just pulled out his phone and started typing away while he waited for the class to start. David assumed that was the end of it and started the class. It was about twenty minutes into the class when things took a turn for the worst. He hadn’t realized at first that the desk Liebgott had chosen was right at David’s eye level. He realized it pretty quickly though when Joe reached his arms over his head, stretching with his head thrown back and letting out a dramatic moan. Webster would maintain that he in no way noticed the way Joe’s t-shirt rode up his stomach, exposing a large swath of pale skin and sharp hip bones. He also in no way watched the way Joe’s lips parted sensuously or how his eyelashes fluttered softly against his cheeks. The way he stuttered over his words, completely lost his train of thought ( _or at least any train of thought that wasn’t about how he’d like to draw more sounds like that out of Joe_ ) and spluttered embarrassingly was completely unrelated to Liebgott’s little show of sexuality. Liebgott of course wouldn’t have bought this even if he’d known it and just popped his pen in his mouth and smirked around it infuriatingly. David couldn’t help but glower at him and try to ignore the way he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and met David’s glare with hooded eyes dark with desire. 

Things only got worse from there. Once Joe saw that his little antics were having some sort of effect on Webster he was unrelenting. The second day Webster had initiated a discussion on one of the short stories he’d asked the class to read. Webster was leaning against his desk, legs crossed at the ankles and facilitating the discussion loosely, letting the students speak their minds and having their peers agree or refute their arguments. While half listening to a somewhat uninspired point being made by one of the other students when his eyes just happened to drift over to Liebgott. That was a mistake. Joe was swallowing a bite of some glazed donut and when he saw Webster meet his eyes, he put the donut down and began licking the sticky glaze off his fingers. In the most obscene way possible. He dragged his thumb down the flat of his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and letting his eyes flutter closed. David could almost hear the satisfied little moan Joe let out. Joe wasn’t done though. He swirled his tongue around every single finger, sucking them into his mouth and maintaining eye contact with Webster the whole time. David couldn’t help the way his breath hitched or the pained little whimper he let fall from his lips. Joe was smirking again and David was just wondering what it would feel like to dig his fingers in Joe’s hair and tug hard, when a feminine voice broke through the fog in his mind.

“Don’t you agree Mr. Webster?” 

David looked around himself somewhat dazedly, blinking slowly. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” He asked dryly. 

The girl who had asked the question huffed indignantly while her classmates tittered nervously around her. “Nothing.” She muttered.

Webster tried valiantly to get the discussion back on track and ignore Joe but for the rest of the class, every time he looked at Joe he couldn’t get the image of him sucking on his fingers out of his head. Liebgott knew it too. He had this smug, self-satisfied look that Webster just wanted to wipe off his face. He tried not to go into too much detail about how he’d wipe it off Joe’s face or what Joe’s mouth would be better occupied with instead. 

By class six Webster was certain this behaviour would have ended but if anything it just got worse. Every day Liebgott would have some new way to torture Webster. Jeans or t-shirts that were just a bit too snug, v-necks that showed off collarbones that Joe had somehow surmised were a weakness for Web. One time David was looking out over the class and saw Joe practically fellating a water bottle that caused a coughing fit in Webster and an awkward and surreptitious - hopefully - rearranging of the pants. Other times it was more subtle. Fingers dancing lightly down his neck, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Legs spread wide with strong hands splayed over them, dipping down his inner thighs and dragging dangerously close to his groin. Webster was starting to dread coming to class and yet at this point Joe just had to make eye contact with him and his stomach would flutter and his slacks would get a little more snug. It was kind of a nightmare teaching his class with half a hard on. The unending stream of sexual innuendo and flirting were bad enough, but worse was that Joe seemed hellbent on disagreeing with David at every turn. Every class discussion Liebgott would have to raise his hand and open his mouth and push every single one of Webster’s buttons. Webster was embarrassed to think how many discussions had devolved into some personal argument between the two of them. Every time David had office hours Liebgott would inevitably show up and Webster never knew what inane question that Joe clearly already knew the answer to he’d be faced with that day.

_”Our first paper, can I write it in Comic Sans?”  
“No Joe, you can’t write an academic paper in Comic Sans.”   
“Alright, fair enough,will I be penalized if I make it too long? What if I just can’t stop waxing poetic about how great the Romantic Period was?”  
“Joe, it’s a five page paper expecting a quick break down on the Romantic Period, not your opus magnus. Just, look at the damn grading rubric if you have any other questions.”   
“Careful Professor, you shouldn’t swear in front of students.”_

Well, Joe could have his little game, there was no way David would be playing along with it.

****

Joe would have disagreed on that point, though he would concede that it didn’t seem Webster was intentionally playing the game. The man just clearly did not understand his own sex appeal. He was entirely oblivious and Joe had to fight the urge to find it adorable and endearing. By the third class it was obvious that several of the female students (and at least one other male student from what Joe could gather) were absolutely besotted with their professor. David would show up to class in those slim fit dress pants that hugged his hips in just the right way, completely unaware of how they framed what was obviously a spectacular ass. He had yet to show up to a class without some sort of facial hair though it did seem he’d occasionally try to at least trim it. That scruffy facial hair look certainly did things for Joe. His hair would usually start the class in a semblance of order but by the end of class would be a barely tamed mass of curls. His eyes were lively and thoughtful, crinkling when he smiled - and his smile was blinding and sweet and freely given. These were all just things about David Webster that said “I am walking sex” but they weren’t what drove Joe nuts and kept him on course with his scheme. No, that was Webster’s mouth - in more ways than one. The simplest being that the man seemed incapable of closing his mouth. When he wasn’t speaking his lips seemed to be eternally parted in what Joe could only think of as a sinful pout. He’d wasted a great deal of time staring at those lips and wanting to kiss and bite them until they were slick and swollen and red. Joe wasn’t sure what specifically it was about Webster’s mouth but something about it just made Joe think it was made for sucking dick. The flip side to the coin that was David Webster’s mouth was the way he used it. The infuriating and perplexing things that would come out of it, the way he’d snap at Joe every time Joe would argue against him during a discussion. The way the corners pulled down when he was focusing on what someone said. The gentle timbre of his voice while he was explaining something to a student. The somewhat contagious grin it would break into when he was talking about something he was passionate about. These things were not simple, and clearly weren’t about sex, but they had ensnared Joe as surely as Joe’s stupid water bottle trick had caught Webster up. It was these things that made Joe feel that turnabout was fair play. David may not know he was playing this game but Joe didn’t care, he was playing it nonetheless.

****

Joe was just leaving Webster’s office after spending a good twenty minutes trying to convince David that Pride and Prejudice and Zombies was a perfectly acceptable book to write a paper about when he nearly ran into Robert Leckie. He grinned and clapped Leckie on the shoulder. “Lucky my man, what are you doing here?” He asked cheerily. He had successfully worked Webster up, arousing and infuriating him in equal parts, and so far that always made him chipper. 

Leckie gave him a slightly puzzled smile in return. “I could ask you the same thing Liebgott. I never expected to see you slumming it in the English department.” 

Liebgott groaned. “Fucking tell me about it man, this is not my choice. Well,” he cast a lecherous grin at Webster. “Not entirely anyway.”

Leckie looked at Webster, confused, but Webster ignored him in favour of glaring at Joe, who was ignoring Webster in favour of grinning at Leckie. Bob had no idea what the fuck was going on here and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “Well, I’m sure Vera will give you a hand if you need help with anything.”

Liebgott’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Oh no, Professor Webster is very helpful.” Bob was definitely lost now. “Well, anyway, I should get going. See you later Leckie.” He turned and smirked at Webster. “Web.” He said playfully.

Webster glared. “Don’t call me that Joe.” He said darkly. 

Joe just winked at him. “Aye, aye Professor.” He teased and then turned and disappeared down the hall. 

Leckie stood in the doorway of Webster’s office, leaning against the frame and raised his eyebrows at David in an unspoken question.

David shook his head and glowered at his desk. “How do you know Joe?” He finally asked him.

Leckie shrugged. “Vera’s one of the heads of the Art Department.” He said, like that answered David’s question. When David just blinked at him Leckie frowned. “You mean to tell me, all of that overwhelming sexual tension and you have no idea what his major is?”

David’s mouth twisted in a grimace and he narrowed his eyes at Leckie. “There was no ‘overwhelming sexual tension’ Bob. Joseph Liebgott is probably the most infuriating student I will ever have.”

Leckie laughed and plopped down in one of the chairs across from David. “Sure, whatever you say.” He teased. “Well, since you are incredibly unaware, Liebgott is an art student, a really talented one too. He was one of the students Vera took a real shine to right away - you know how she collects those little stray puppy type kids - and that’s how we’ve met. Shit, he’s come to our house for dinner a few times.”

Webster blinked at him again in that incredibly annoying way he had. “He’s had dinner at your house?” He repeated.

Leckie shrugged. “Sure. I mean, he’s one of the few students who will probably be in the Master’s program next year. I wasn’t lying when I said he was talented. He actually gifted one of his projects from last year to Vera cause she was so in love with it.” He waved a hand at David. “You’ve seen it. That totally surreal abstract piece with the gold foil and the acrylics and velvet?”

David frowned. “In your living room? Shit,” he muttered. “I really like that painting.”

Leckie laughed long and hard. “No sexual tension huh?” He asked and David just glared in response. “Do I need to give you the ‘Don’t fuck your students’ talk Dave?” He asked mockingly.

“I do not want to fuck Joseph Liebgott.” He growled, meeting Leckie’s gaze steadily.

Leckie pat his hand gently. “Of course you don't.” He said condescendingly. “You just keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll even make it through the semester.” He eyed the calendar behind Webster’s desk. “Just twelve weeks left to go.” 

Webster groaned. He wasn’t sure he could handle another twelve weeks of this. “Please tell me you’re here to ask me to get drunk with you, because for once I’d very much like to.”

Leckie laughed again and stood up. “For once the man relents!” He cheered. “Come on, we’ll go drown your Liebgott related sorrows in shitty whisky and even shittier beer.” 

It was a Friday ritual for Leckie to come to Webster’s office and insist the man get drunk with him at one shitty dive bar or another, and more often than not Webster would politely decline. Webster was a brunch kind of guy, not a dive bar kind of guy and Leckie considered it unfair that he went to more brunches with Webster than Webster went to bars with him. If whatever was going on between David and Liebgott kept up Bob thought he might have more drunken Friday nights than early Saturday mornings in his future. He was alright with this.

****

Liebgott cringed at the annoying jingle of the bell over the door as he stepped into the crowded coffee shop and looked for his friends. He both loved and hated this place. It was one of those real hipster California coffee shops that normally he’d avoid solely on principle but they displayed and even sold student art here so he begrudgingly and unexpectedly became a regular visitor here. When he eyed Person sitting in a corner booth he strode over to him. Joe slid into the booth across from Person and kicked his feet up on the stretch of bench beside Ray. “Sup homes?” Ray asked while dumping what could only be described as a fuck ton of sugar in his coffee. 

Liebgott made a face and flicked one of the empty sugar packets at Ray. “Christ Ray I will never understand why you insist on ruining perfectly good coffee with all that sugar.”

Person grinned at him and blew on his coffee while a voice from behind Joe suddenly responded. “It’s cause he’s an asshole.” Joe turned slightly and looked over to see Hoosier sidle up to their table. He kicked Joe’s feet off the bench and pushed his way in next to Joe. 

Ray stuck his tongue out at the both of them before taking a sip of his coffee. “I am a fucking _delight_ bro and you know it.”

“Of course.” Hoosier remarked dryly while Joe huffed a laugh and smiled fondly. Hoosier turned and levelled Joe with a look before remarking: “You went and harassed Professor Hottie today didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Joe looked affronted. “What? Why would you say that?” He spluttered.

Hoosier just stared at him blankly. “You didn’t bitch at me for kicking your feet off Person’s bench. You didn’t bitch at me for pushing you over and sitting here. You’re only being mildly traumatizing to Ray. Shit, you’re practically being nice to him.” 

Ray beamed at the both of them, bouncing only slightly in his seat. “Yo, it’s true homes. You haven’t even actually insulted me yet.” Joe gave him the middle finger. “That’s fucking mild for you man. You saw Professor Hottie. Admit it.” His foot darted out and pushed teasingly at Joe’s shin. “Admit it, admit it, admit it!” He singsonged.

Joe kicked at Ray’s foot. “Fine! Fuck.” He relented. “It was mild harassing I swear.” He held his hand up as if he were swearing on a bible. “Barely sexual and mostly related to his class.”

Hoosier smacked him across the back of the head. “You need to drop this shit Lieb.” He growled. “He’s your fucking teacher and you’re being an asshole.” 

Joe crossed his arms and pouted. “I know he’s into me though and god you guys he’s so hot.” He whined. 

Ray shrugged, coffee still in hand and splashing over the side of his mug. “That’s tough bro but Hoos is right, you gotta leave ‘im alone man.” He flicked the drops of coffee that spilled on his hand towards Joe.

Joe dropped his head into his hands. “God, what is my life that Ray fucking Person is giving me advice.” He lamented.

Beside him Hoosier laughed and clapped him on the back. “Come on, it’s not that bad. Person is an expert at fucking up. He’s just sharing his wealth of knowledge with you.”

Ray half stood up and gave an awkward bow. “You’re welcome, you’re welcome.” He said like a gracious ringmaster. 

Joe threw another sugar packet at him. “Whatever, let’s just get fucking wasted tonight and maybe you’ll both forget about the professor.” He grumbled.

Hoosier quirked an eyebrow at him. “I think you’ve got that backwards Lieb. You’re the one who’s supposed to forget about the Professor.” He said but Joe just shrugged, ignoring him.

****

When Leckie had invited Webster to get drunk with him Webster had kind of assumed that meant they’d be going and getting drunk. As in, almost immediately. He had forgotten that this was not how one did Friday night drinking with Professor Leckie. No, Robert Leckie had a system and was incredibly particular about what shit hole bar he got drunk in. Webster just wanted to drink to forget a certain skinny, infuriating, ( _beautiful, mesmerizing, sexy as fuck, god fucking dammit David no_ ) student of his. He didn’t care where they went but Leckie was adamant and it took them all of a meal and an hour of driving around the city until he found the perfect bar. 

“This is the one Dave, I’m telling you. It’s perfect.” He stood outside the building with his arms outstretched, proclaiming his find. It looked like any other bar to Webster. He said as much and pushed Leckie through the doors. 

“No Webster, it’s not just any bar.” Leckie remarked, affronted. “There’s a list my man, criteria that need to be met. You can’t drown your sorrows in just any bar.” He muttered, leading Webster up to the bar. “Besides, this place has the added bonus that it’s busy enough that we’re not just two, sad assholes drinking alone in an empty bar, but not so busy that you can’t enjoy a little quiet contemplation and misery.” Leckie remarked as they waited for the bartender to take their order.

Webster eyed the sticky countertop warily. “Where does cleanliness factor into your grading scheme Professor Leckie?” He asked bitterly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Leckie laughed and knocked his shoulder against Webster’s. “That’s the charm of a dive bar David. If you’d take that stick out your ass you’d probably have a good time.”

“Yea, and maybe get hepatitis.” He muttered with a quirk of his eyebrows. 

After an hour or so Webster could concede that maybe he was being a bit melodramatic. He’d spent the last hour bemoaning all that was Joseph Liebgott - leaving out the overtly sexual antics and sticking to the purely annoying and disruptive antics instead - and Leckie had listened with an attentive and gracious ear. Occasionally he’d throw in a contemplative hum or a commisserative head shake. More often than not he’d shove a glass in David’s hand and gesture for him to drink it. It was working and Webster felt his worries about Liebgott drifting away on the river of alcohol Leckie had dumped into him.

****

Joe was well on his own way to getting nice and drunk. There were interruptions, as there always were since going out with Ray usually involved bar hopping. Not because either Liebgott or Hoosier wanted to bar hop. Not even because Ray wanted to bar hop. He just had a talent for getting kicked out of bars. Tonight didn’t involve anything as dramatic as that time he’d almost set his face on fire due to an unfortunate run in with a flaming shot but they were still moving on to their second bar of the night. 

Ray was keeping up a running commentary as they stepped from the cab and headed for the bar. “Get this homes all I’m saying is, the best way to get over one piece of ass is to find yourself some new pussy.” Ray squished his face up in concentration. “No wait. Dick!” He said, pointing exuberantly at Joe. “In your case, new dick. That’s what you need brother.” He slung his arm over Joe’s shoulders as they pushed their way through the doors. “Take it from me man. Scope out your prospects, jump on the first promising cock you see and you’ll forget all about Professor Hottie.” He said, waving his free arm at the bar in front of them.

Hoosier stepped up next to them and laughed. “He’s got a point Lieb.” He said dryly.

Joe rolled his eyes but looked around the bar anyway. He highly doubted he’d find a guy here who’d be interested but Joe was the optimistic type. At least when it came to his ability to pick up. As he scanned the bar his eyes landed on someone draped over the pool table. All he could see was the back of a dark head, a well muscled forearm pulled back, long fingers gripping the pool cue. The man’s back was arched slightly, shoulders hunched up and ass shoved in the air. It was practically an invitation. Joe grinned wolfishly. “I think you might be right boys.” He said. 

Hoosier and Ray both followed his gaze just as the man made his shot. There was the sharp crack of pool balls bouncing off each other and then the man stood up, grinning triumphantly at his friend. Joe got a good look at his face, saw those bright blue eyes dancing happily and spat out an exuberant “oh shit” before grinning wider.

Hoosier and Ray exchanged a glance with each other and then looked back at the man. “What?” Hoosier asked hesitantly.

Joe laughed and shook his head. “Gentleman, this is a sign from God himself. I am meant to fuck this man.” He turned his smile and his palms to the ceiling, as if in thanks to God.

Hoosier dropped his head to his chest and let out a long breath before grabbing Joe’s bicep. “That’s Professor Hottie.” He grumbled, pushing Joe in the opposite direction from where Leckie and Webster were standing. “I swear to god Joe, do not go over there. The only reason I’m not dragging you from this shithole of temptation is because this is one of the few bars Ray hasn’t been kicked out of.”

Ray made a face at Hoosier’s back as he followed them. “Hey man, that’s not fair. I’m the victim here! That chair was poorly crafted and you know it.” He crowed petulantly. 

Hoosier stopped abruptly, pulling Joe up with him and turned to face Ray. “Either way,” he said, looking at both of them. “You,” he said sternly, pointing at Joe, “are going to stay away from the hot teacher. And you,” he said, glaring at Ray, “just fucking behave. For once.” 

Ray held his hands up and smiled innocently. “I make no promises.” 

Joe didn’t respond, just nodded grumpily when Hoosier shook his arm. Joe didn’t know how he’d been saddled with two giant cockblocks for best friends but here he was. He’d just have to deal with it and settle for staring at Webster longingly from across the bar. Of course, Hoosier would probably catch him and slap him for it, but that was fine.

Hoosier, Joe and Ray had just settled into a booth when Webster finally noticed them. Leckie was just lining up his next shot, Webster standing off to the side and leaning on his pool cue, when David looked up and made direct eye contact with Liebgott. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He practically wailed, throwing Leckie off and making him miss his shot.

Leckie huffed, grinding his teeth together, and looked up at Webster angrily. “What the fuck man.” He saw Webster staring, horrified, and turned his head to see what he was looking at. When he saw Joseph Liebgott he broke out laughing. “Oh shit. Oh shit that is perfect.” He doubled over and clutched at his stomach.

Webster glared down at Leckie, cackling with his forehead resting on the pool table. “Don’t be such an asshole. What is he doing here?” He shot a glare at Joe - who was smirking at him and sipping a beer - before grabbing his own drink and slamming it, wiping the back of his hand across his lips when he finished.

Leckie stood up, still chuckling, and shrugged. “Providence?” He asked, winking. He eyed Webster’s finished drink and left Webster staring at the pool table while he went to refill their drinks. He came back and shoved a shot in Webster’s hand and placed a beer next to him on the pool table. “So what, maybe you won’t survive the next twelve weeks but you were feeling good son. Don’t let Liebgott ruin your buzz.” He cheered when Webster downed his shot, grimaced, and chased it with a pull off his beer bottle. “That’s the idea! Now you’re up, take your shot Web and forget about Lieb.”

Webster glared at him. “Don’t call me Web.” He grumbled. 

With another glance at Liebgott he rounded the table to line up his next shot. As he leaned over the table he noticed Joe watching him. Webster was drunk enough to be feeling reckless and pissed off. He’d suffered through nearly four weeks of Liebgott torturing him relentlessly and maybe he felt like it was time to get a little payback. He knew there was a reason it was a bad idea, some vague notion of _don’t do this_ dancing around the back of his mind but he couldn’t place it. Instead he lined up his shot, sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, and lifted his eyes to meet Joe’s as he slammed his pool cue forward, connecting solidly with the white ball. He didn’t even look to see if he’d sunk his shot, he knew he did. Instead he smirked and winked at Joe, standing up slowly and running his hands suggestively down his pool cue. He felt a little flutter of satisfaction in his chest when he saw Joe choke on his beer and look away, a flush creeping up his neck. He had to admit, this was kind of fun.

Webster carried on like this for nearly an hour. It seemed Webster had finally figured out his own sex appeal and every time Joe looked over Webster would pull out all the stops. Joe couldn’t decide if he was pissed off about it or proud. He especially appreciated when Webster caught a stray drop of beer that had rolled down the neck of his beer bottle with his tongue. It was a move straight out of the Joe Liebgott book of being an asshole. It was getting to be a little too much however. Joe had been tossing back drinks as quickly as Ray could get them to him and he was at the point where he was about to go over there and pin David against that pool table; Hoosier be damned. He was saved from the humiliation of being tackled by Ray and Hoosier when Leckie decided to take pity on either Joe or Webster - Joe wasn’t sure which of them it was at this point - and artfully suggested he and Webster get home. As Leckie dragged Webster towards the door by his arm Joe decided he’d be showing up at Webster’s next office hours for sure. Webster would suffer for this little display. Joe grinned at Webster as they walked past their table. “See ya later Professor.” He shouted at them.

Webster turned and beamed drunkenly at them. “Whatever you say Liebgott.” He slurred. 

Joe watched them leave with a glint in his eye. Oh yes. He was definitely going to make Webster pay.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe goes to see Webster in payback for his little show at the bar and Webster decides he's had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll level with you. This is just smut. Like, straight up.

Liebgott leaned against the door to Webster’s office, arms crossed over his chest, and one ankle crossed over the other. He had in no way forgotten Webster’s little display the other night and he was here to collect. He watched Webster for a moment, shuffling through some of the papers on his desk, and waited for Webster to notice him. When David finally looked up and saw Liebgott standing in the doorway Joe saw him draw in a steadying breath before his brow crinkled. “How can I help you Joe?” He asked, voice tinged with annoyance. “Here to ask some question that you already know the answer to?”

Joe grinned, wide and salacious before speaking. “Nope. Just wanted to let you know that those are some great slacks.” He licked his lips and quirked his brow.

Webster’s brows drew down further. “W-what?” He stammered. His mouth felt suddenly dry and he didn’t like the dangerous glint in Liebgott’s eyes. Joe had been torturing him for weeks and Webster’s resolve could only take so much. The cracks were definitely starting to show.

Liebgott pushed off the door and walked towards David’s desk. “Your slacks, I like them.” He said slowly, smirk still playing on the corners of his lips. He brought his hands up in a cupping gesture. “They make your ass look fucking fantastic.” He grinned wide and winked at David, dropping his hands loosely by his sides.

Webster felt a blush creeping up his neck and flushing his cheeks and he swallowed hard. “Liebgott.” He warned. “This is highly inappropriate. You need to cut this out.” He said weakly.

Joe slid his hands into his pockets and tipped forward slightly, bending at the waist. “What’s the matter Professor?” He purred, enjoying the way David’s breath hitched slightly and his eyelashes fluttered. “Have I been a distraction?” He flashed Webster a crooked smile and just barely heard a whispered ‘yes’ fall from Web’s lips. 

Suddenly David’s eyes darkened and his features hardened. He set his jaw and glared at Joe for a moment. Without speaking he stood up fluidly and moved from behind his desk and strode towards the door.

Joe leaned back from his forward position and turned to follow David’s progress to the door. When Webster reached the door he gripped the solid wood in one hand, Joe saw his knuckles whiten on it briefly before he closed it solidly. His heart jumped into his throat and his stomach flipped with anticipation when he saw David turn the lock. “Yes Joe.” He said again, voice rough and raw. “You’ve been a distraction, you’ve been disruptive, you’ve been an outright pain in my ass.” He growled, turning around and levelling him with a hard stare.

Joe gulped and felt the room change, the tension between them reaching new levels. He hadn’t exactly expected this outcome when he’d come here today. Still, Joe wasn’t one to back down from something he’d started. “So, what are you going to do about it Professor?” He asked, pasting a cocky smirk on his face. 

David took a deep breath and studied Joe’s face for a moment. He strode forward and into Joe’s space, smirking as Joe took a step back and found the desk behind him. He crowded Joe into the desk and leaned forward, meeting his eyes. “Well Joe, like I said, you’ve been a pain in my ass and the punishment should fit the crime right? So I think what I’m going to do is just bend you over this desk and spank you until your ass is bright red and raw. Is that what you want?” He asked darkly.

Joe’s throat clicked as he swallowed thickly. His stomach bottomed out as all the blood from his body left his head and rushed straight to his cock. His mouth opened and closed uselessly a few times, his tongue felt too thick to speak and finally he just nodded enthusiastically. Christ did he want that. 

Webster stepped back half a step and made a show of raking his eyes up and down Joe’s body. His face broke into a predatory grin when he eyed the obvious bulge in the front of Liebgott’s tight jeans. “Good.” He practically purred. He reached forward and grasped the front of Liebgott’s jeans, undoing the button and pulling down the fly. He maintained eye contact with Joe, his eyes dark and hungry, and just a little bit pissed off. Joe shivered at the look and felt a spike of arousal in his belly. When David had his jeans undone he curled his fingers in the waistband of his jeans and boxers but paused. Joe licked his lips, suddenly dry, and waited for Web to do something. He searched David’s face and saw his eyes soften when he asked “Are you sure about this Joe?” 

Joe felt his heart clench at the softness and care in David’s voice and he nodded. “Yea.” He whispered, matching David’s tone.

David grinned and Joe was sure he was going to pull his jeans down and finally free his aching cock. Instead he pulled his hands from Joe’s jeans and gripped the collar of his t-shirt, pulling it to the side as he leaned forward and latched onto his collarbone, sinking his teeth in. Joe let his head loll back and he gasped, burying one hand in David’s hair and gripping the edge of the desk with the other. David drew his hands down Joe’s sides, touch feather light, and slid them under Joe’s shirt, fingertips dancing against the taut flesh of his abdomen. His mouth was still on Liebgott’s collarbones, his tongue smoothing over the bite mark before he moved on, kissing up Joe’s neck. He gripped the hem of Joe’s shirt and drew it over his head, taking in the expanse of pale skin before him. David groaned as he smoothed his thumb over the sharp bone of Lieb’s hips. Joe was gripping the edge of the desk with both hands now, chest rising and falling with each laboured breath he took, eyeing Web from beneath heavily hooded eyes. David felt his own chest rising and falling with his own heavy breathing and tore his gaze from the body in front of him. He met Joe’s eyes as he gripped his pants and boxers again and finally jerked them down his hips, letting them bunch around his thighs. Lieb’s cock bobbed free from it’s confines and he hissed as the cool air met the hot and aching flesh. David sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and ached to reach out and draw his thumb over the precome pearling on the red tip of Joe’s dick. Instead he gripped Joe’s hips bruisingly and spun him around, planting his hand firmly between his shoulder blades and shoving Joe down on the desk. 

Joe gasped raggedly and unconsciously pushed his ass in the air, practically presenting it for Webster. His cock was hanging heavily between his legs and Webster was still gripping his hips harshly. He dropped his forehead to the desk with a heavy thunk. “Oh fuck Professor.” He gasped out, having already clued in that maybe Webster liked that. 

Behind him David shivered and dug his fingers in more harshly. It surprised him how much it turned him on when Joe called him ‘Professor’. He shook his head to clear some of the fog and laid a broad hand on the curve of Liebgott’s ass, smoothing it gently over the skin, enjoying the way Joe tightened his grip on the far edge of the desk and shivered lightly. “I hate to admit it but I've been admiring this tight little ass of yours for weeks now.” he purred. 

Joe groaned quietly and pushed his ass back into David's warm palm when suddenly Webster grabbed a bruising handful, squeezing the flesh in his palm painfully. Joe gasped and his head shot up off the desk, his sweat-slick hands slipping on the polished wood. “Fuck.” He growled and clenched his jaw harshly. “Well get on with it then Professor.” He ground out sharply, tone laced with biting sarcasm. 

David grinned, Joe was back to his bad behaviours, and wasn't he here to correct those bad behaviours? He drew his hand back and landed a sharp blow to Joe's ass, enjoying the way Joe yelped sharply. He tilted his head thoughtfully and watched as Lieb’s ass cheek flushed a bright red in the clear shape of his palm. He smacked him again, not quite as hard, and grinned as a low whine escaped Joe’s throat. “Why am I punishing you Liebgott?” He demanded darkly, removing his hands from Joe’s body and shedding his cardigan. Joe groaned and thunked his forehead back on the desk, pushing his ass back towards David. Webster smirked and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. “Come on Joe, why am I punishing you?” He asked again, tone lighter but strained with his own lust. 

Liebgott gripped the edge of the desk tighter for a moment and growled then took a deep breath. “I don’t know Professor. Why am I being punished?” He asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence. 

“Wrong answer Joe.” Web growled and brought his hand down again sharply, the smack shockingly loud in the small office. He smacked Liebgott again, harder, and again, and again. Joe was panting harshly, head dropped between his hunched shoulders with his back arched, presenting himself fully to Webster. His ass was stinging sharply and overly warm, and even though he couldn’t see it he knew it was turning a bright shade of red. David could see it though and he admired his work, enjoying the stark contrast of pink against the pale skin of Joe’s thighs. “Well,” he asked again. “Why am I punishing you Liebgott?” 

Joe was still panting and he was so turned on he could feel his dick leaking against his thigh. He was embarrassed to admit it but he wanted more. “I-i don't know Professor.” He stammered out and screwed his eyes shut at the whiny note in his voice and the way he was still whimpering. 

David smiled and smoothed his hand down the curve of Lieb’s ass. If he had to admit it, he'd have been disappointed if Joe had answered any other way. “Wrong answer. Again.” He was aiming for menacing but his voice came out sounding totally wrecked. 

Joe raised his head off the desk and grinned at how broken Web sounded. “Well Professor, I guess it's cause I've been bad. Very, very bad.”

Webster moaned but managed to choke out a broken “How?”

Liebgott smirked and shuffled up on his elbows. “Well, for one, I never pay attention during your lectures. I'm too busy daydreaming about sucking your cock.”

David stifled another moan. “Right answer.” He laid another sharp smack to Lieb’s ass and chuckled at the surprised yelp Joe gave. 

“I didn’t think a right answer would get me the same treatment as a wrong one.” Joe growled and then he chuckled too, giving a considering pause. “You know, I've also barely done any of my assignments. I just keep getting distracted thinking about you bending me over a desk and fucking me until I forget my own name.” 

Webster responded by smacking him sharply again then leaned forward, laying across his back. He bit down sharply on Joe's shoulder then grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled his head back. He sucked Lieb’s earlobe into his mouth and nibbled on it gently. “How else?” Web whispered hotly into his ear. 

Liebgott took a ragged breath and smirked. “I jerk off in the shower thinking about that pretty mouth of yours. I wrap my hand around my cock and imagine it's your mouth. I think about your lips stretched wide around my dick and I swear to God I come so hard sometimes I almost pass out. Has anyone ever told you that you have perfect cocksucker lips?” He asked gruffly. 

Webster smiled and let go of Joe's hair, trailing his hand down his back, digging his nails in. He cupped Liebgott’s ass, smoothing his hand in soothing circles, occasionally kneading the overheated flesh. His mouth was still working on Joe's neck and shoulders, sucking bruises into the skin. Occasionally he'd let a finger dip between Joe's cheeks, press gently at his entrance, before moving away. Joe was rutting back against his hand and moaning lowly. “Jesus Christ, just fuck me already.” He growled.

Webster smirked and brought his lips to Joe's ear. “What about my perfect cocksucker lips Liebgott? Didn't you want to find out if my mouth feels as good on your dick as you imagined?”

Joe couldn't think or speak past the roaring of blood in his ears, all he could do was nod his head and try to cut off the needy whine that escaped his throat. He felt David grab his arm and help him up, turning him around and pressing him back against the desk. Webster dropped gracefully to his knees and looked up at him, his eyes dark and hungry and his lips parted sinfully. Joe had the vague thought that Webster looked absolutely pornographic and that that should be illegal before David's lips quirked up in a smirk and Lieb gulped. He had the distinct impression that Webster intended to suck his brains out through his dick. However Webster didn't go straight for his prize, first he ducked his head and worked on undoing Joe's shoes. The waiting while Webster took his shoes and pants off was possibly the worst thing he'd done today and Joe made a mental note to pay him back for that later. 

When Joe was finally naked in front of him - and Joe found it incredibly unfair that Webster was still, mostly, full clothed - David trailed a hand gently up Liebgott’s inner thigh. He leaned forward and latched his teeth on Joe’s hipbone, biting down harshly. Joe’s head spun at the contrast of feeling - the feather light touch of Web’s hand on his thigh and sharpness of his teeth on hip. His hands were gripping at the solid wood of Web’s desk again and he pried one hand off so he could tangle his fingers in David’s hair. He desperately wanted to tug that hair and just manhandle David directly to his dick, but the look Web shot him dissuaded him from doing that. Web began kissing a trail down Joe’s stomach, but circled around his dick in favour of kissing and nipping gently at Joe’s thighs. Joe groaned and tightened his grip in David’s hair and Webster just cocked an eyebrow at him, eyes swimming with a teasing sort of glee. Before Joe could complain much further David’s mouth was suckling hotly on one of his balls and Joe had to bite back another groan. David moved his mouth up and was suddenly licking a hot stripe up his cock, straight from root to tip. When he reached the fat, leaking head of Joe’s cock he cupped his tongue, letting several drops of precome pool on his tongue before surging forward and swallowing Joe down in one fluid motion. Joe’s grip on the table become crushing and he dropped his head forward. “Holy fucking shit.” He ground out as he felt the head of his cock hitting the back of David’s throat. Webster hollowed his cheeks as he pulled back, sucking harshly, keeping eye contact with Joe the whole way. When he reached the head he swirled his tongue around it, drawing the flat of his tongue through the weeping slit, and then pushed his head down again, taking Joe even further. Joe pulled his other hand from the desk and buried it in David’s hair as he felt David’s throat fluttering around his dick as Webster swallowed. Webster’s hands were on his hips, his lips smeared with spit and precome and his preternaturally blue eyes blazing into Joe’s own. As Webster began bobbing his head, cheeks hollowing with the suction every time pulled back up, Joe had time to think that it was better than anything he’d been able to imagine. When Webster was suckling at the head of Joe's dick, his hand stroking the base, Joe couldn't help but reach down and swipe a thumb across Web's stretched bottom lip. He shivered when Web smirked around him and buried his hand back in Web's hair as Web began sucking him again in earnest. Liebgott had been right. Webster definitely intended to suck his brains out through his dick and as he felt his orgasm building he tugged harshly on David's hair. “If you don't stop soon, it's gonna be over before we even start.” He roughly gasped out. David ignored him and instead of letting up, trailed one hand from Joe's hips to press lightly against his entrance, circling the sensitive flesh. That pushed Joe over the edge and soon he was coming down Web's throat, screwing his eyes shut tight and panting out David's name harshly. David pulled off Joe's softening dick with a pop and smiled up at him, self satisfied. While Joe was leaning back against the desk, catching his breath, he didn't see Webster hook a bag out from under his desk. Nor did he hear him rummaging for something in the bag, or the telltale pop of a cap being opened. He didn't miss it though when Webster's slicked up finger was once again pushing against his entrance and he gasped harshly. 

Webster chuckled and grinned up at him, crooking his finger in just the right way to draw another moan from Liebgott. Joe stared down at him, mouth parted and eyes dark. Joe briefly considered teasing David about having lube handy but abandoned that thought as David slipped another finger in alongside the first. Webster was kissing his thighs, suckling at Joe's balls and Joe had to stop himself from just fucking himself on Webster's fingers and bite his lips to keep his mewling whines from breaking through. As Webster eased in a third and started hitting Joe's prostate on every thrust of his fingers Joe couldn’t take it anymore. He was already hard again and more than done with the foreplay. “Ah fuck Webster.” He groaned. “Just fuck me already.” 

Webster - who was proving to be as infuriating as Joe himself - didn't say anything. He just smiled at him and scissored his fingers cruelly. 

Joe groaned lowly. “Fine.” He muttered, he knew what would make Webster break. “Please professor.” He ground out. “Please, please, please just fuck me already Professor.”

Web's breath stuttered in his chest. Liebgott begging was so much more than he could handle and he gracefully climbed to his feet. He began to unbutton his shirt but Joe was not interested in being patient. Liebgott grabbed Webster's shirt and ripped it open, shoving it down his arms and pausing only long enough to mouth at his neck and collarbones, dragging his tongue down Webster chest and dragging his teeth across a nipple. He wrestled the shirt off David and grabbed him, dragging him around the desk and shoving him in the chair with a growl. “You had your fun.” He said sternly. “Now I'm going to ride the fuck out of you in this chair, got it?” He asked darkly, bending down to yank at Webster's slacks and then it was David's turn to nod mutely. Liebgott growled again when Webster's slacks got stuck around his feet but he managed to figure them out. He threw them haphazardly away from him and took a moment to enjoy the picture in front of him. Webster was splayed out on the chair, hands gripping the armrests, legs spread wide, with his chest heaving. He was watching Joe intensely, his eyes just a sliver of blue being swallowed by black. Joe couldn’t help but lick his lips hungrily before he crawled into Webster’s lap. He cupped one hand around David’s neck and pulled their lips together in a bruising kiss while his other hand guided Webster’s lube slick hand to his own cock. He covered Web’s hand while Web slicked himself up and then guided Web between his cheeks. Liebgott bit down sharply on David’s bottom lip as he felt the blunt head of David’s cock pushing insistently at his entrance. As Joe sank himself down on Webster’s cock, Web pressed one hand against Joe’s chest, pushing him away from him, while the other hand clutched at Joe’s ass, bringing their hips closer together. This left Joe angled precariously, hands clutching at the back of David’s chair, but afforded Webster perfect access to all of Joe’s skin laid bare. David latched his mouth onto one of Liebgott’s nipples, gasping into his skin as Liebgott rolled his hips sensuously. Joe tossed his head back and began rolling his hips in earnest, enjoying the pleasant fullness and the scrape of Webster’s teeth on his chest. “Ah fuck Web.” He panted. “Shit your cock is so fucking perfect.” 

Webster grinned and kissed his way up Joe’s jaw. “Glad you approve.” He murmured. Liebgott found he didn’t appreciate the cocky tone Web was giving him and lifted himself almost all the way off David’s dick before slamming back down. This dragged a full bodied groan from Webster who buried his face in Joe’s neck and had his hands scrabbling sharply down Joe’s back. Joe picked up a fast and bruising rhythm and clutched at David’s hair, bending his head down to mouth at Web’s neck, nibble his earlobe, and leave a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses along his jaw. David was panting into his neck, his hips thrusting up to meet Joe’s downward thrusts and Joe canted his hips so that Web’s cock was stroking over his prostate. David’s chair was overly large but even then, Joe’s legs were shoved uncomfortably against the armrests, their sweat slick skin was squeaking and slipping over the leather and their thrusting had them perilously close to tipping more than once but Joe couldn’t bring himself to care. All he cared about was the pleasant stretch and burn of Web’s cock inside him, the white hot pleasure every time he hit Joe’s prostate, the sharpness of David’s blunt nails dragging down his back and the feel of David growling and groaning into his neck. Webster for his part had been painfully hard since the moment he’d shut his office door and the tight heat wrapped around him had driven all coherent thought from his mind. This of course didn’t stop him from chanting a litany of curses against Joe’s skin as his release reached a near crescendo. Before he could fully topple over that precipice he wrapped a strong and calloused hand around Joe’s cock, revelling in the sharp hiss of breath Liebgott inhaled. He stroked Joe with a sure, firm grip, swiping his thumb at the sensitive underside of Liebgott’s dick while his free hand gripped Joe’s hip with bruising force. As his hips began to stutter and lose their rhythm Joe swatted his hand away and began stroking himself, freeing David up to grip onto both his hips and slam into him. Webster’s orgasm hit him full force and he curled in on Joe, crushing him to him as Joe continued to bounce on Web’s cock and fist himself until he finished messily between their bodies. 

As David began to come down from his post-coital haze with his head resting on the back of his chair and Liebgott’s come slowly cooling on his belly he groaned. “Shit. What the fuck did I do?” He muttered. 

Liebgott wrapped his arms around Web’s neck and leant down to kiss him chastely. “Well for one, you pretty much just fucked my brains out.” He quipped. 

David groaned again and buried his face in Joe’s neck. “No no no no.” He chanted more to himself than Joe.

Liebgott eased himself off Webster’s lap and laughed cheerily. “Way to make a girl feel easy Web.” He teased. 

Webster stretched his legs out and covered his face with his hands. “Liebgott!” He groaned. “I am your teacher. I can’t do this shit.” He lamented.

Joe huffed and rooted around David’s desk for some tissues to clean them up with. “Web, who gives a shit. It’s not like I’m one of your 18 year co-eds.” He crowed with success when he found the tissues he was looking for and continued. “Seriously, relax.” He finished, wiping himself down before throwing the box at Web. 

Webster shook his head as Joe walked around his desk to find his clothes. “Joe you don’t understand. This is one of those “lose your job” type situations here.” He lamented. 

Joe grabbed his jeans and boxers off the floor and pulled them up. He turned around as he was buttoning them and eyed David. He was still sprawled in the chair, head tossed back and staring forlornly at the ceiling. “As much as I’d love to have this conversation with you.” Joe began. “It’s kind of hard to take you seriously with spunk drying in all that chest hair of yours and your limp dick out.” He snarked, waving a hand at David’s general form. David blushed and reached forward for the box of tissues and scrubbed at his abdomen. Joe kind of hated that he found the whole thing endearing. “Look, I get it, you’re not supposed to fuck your students. I’ll drop your class.” Webster gave him a withering look as he grabbed his own pants and pulled them on. Joe smirked and stepped around the desk again to be closer to David. “Alright, I won’t drop your class then.” He said, leaning against the edge of the desk and crossing his arms. “Look, Web-” he began.

“Don’t call me Web.” David interrupted.

Joe grinned and pulled on one of David’s belt loops. “You prefer it when I call you Professor?” He purred and smirked at the fresh blush that crept up David’s neck. 

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, not like that!” David stammered. _Adorably_ , Joe added in his mind.

He waved off David’s stammering. “Don’t feel bad. I kind of dragged you into this.” Joe said. “Although, that little stunt at the bar Friday night didn’t help.” 

David glared at him. “That’s not fair. I was drunk.” He said mulishly.

Joe rolled his eyes and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Besides, I’m not going to tell anyone. Yea, I want to see you again, but for now, I can keep a secret.” Joe promised.

David chewed on his bottom lip and ducked his eyes. “You want to see me again?” He asked shyly. 

Liebgott rolled his eyes and grabbed a pen off the far corner of Webster’s desk. He found a scrap of paper and scribbled his number on it. “No, I spent four weeks trying to seduce you and then we just had pretty much the best sex I’ve ever had but no. I don’t want to see you again.” He deadpanned.

David laughed and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Alright.” He said, taking the scrap of paper from Joe. He rubbed his thumb over the ink thoughtfully. 

Joe watched David eyeing his number and took pity on him. He tugged on David’s belt loops again until David was settled between his legs and wrapped his arms around David’s waist. David rested his palms on Joe’s shoulders and worried his lip between his teeth, gaze fixed fastly on some point below Joe’s neck. “Don’t freak out about it. Just text me later.” He dropped a gentle kiss to the tip of David’s nose. “It’ll all be very low-key and super secret. Not gonna lie, kinda makes it hotter.” He teased.

That made David laugh and he lifted his eyes to meet Joe’s gaze. “Alright, I can do that.” He said, more sure of himself now. He leaned forward and kissed Joe softly, he hadn’t expected Joe to want to see him again. He assumed that if he ever did sleep with Joe, that once Joe got what he wanted he’d be done with him. That would probably be smarter, David knew, but standing there, with Joe’s hands around his waist and his mouth moving against his, it was the last thing David wanted. Maybe he could be stupid for a bit for Joseph Liebgott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay listen. They don't use a condom here. Why? I don't...know...they just don't. So listen up. Safe sex is important. Always use protection. Though, I feel like if I have to say that I should also say: students, don't fuck your professors and professors, don't fuck your students. I mean, there's a lot going on here that is just a product of poor decision making. So take that all with a grain of salt. 
> 
> Condoms are important. *glares*
> 
> and hey come by my tumblr: zombieeme.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe and David respond to what happened in very different ways and grow closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyyy-o howdy friends 
> 
> Usual disclaimer: this is a work of fiction based off the tv show's portrayals of the characters. No disrespect meant to the real men.
> 
> Much much much thanks to Erin and Andrea who are my helpers and filth enablers. You have both been so supportive and helpful and also totally inspire any and all smut. Thanks sap babies.

It was well after suppertime when Joe finally made it back to the apartment he shared with Hoosier. He had managed to talk David down from his impending panic attack and only left his office after texting himself from David’s phone. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust David to text him (although he didn’t entirely) as it was that this was easier. Now Joe didn’t have to wait if he wanted to talk to David. He already had his number. He dropped his keys into the little bowl on the little side table that Hoosier demanded they have and thought about texting David. Maybe something dirty. Just because he’d won his little game, didn’t mean he didn’t want to keep pestering Webster. It was endlessly fun. He didn’t realize he was smiling widely as he chewed on the idea of sending Webster some dirty pictures and he certainly didn’t see Hoosier standing in the living room watching him.

“What did you do?”

Joe jumped at the accusation and his head snapped up, taking in the room. Hoosier was standing by the armchair with a beer in his hand, glaring at him. Ray was settled into the couch with his legs crossed underneath him; a game controller in his hands and half a hamburger shoved in his mouth. “What?” He asked, shrugging his hands out in the universally recognized gesture for _I have no idea what you’re talking about and am innocent of all charges._

Hoosier pointed at him and glared. “What the fuck did you do Lieb?” He narrowed his eyes and took in Joe’s appearance. 

Joe dropped his schoolbag on the floor and made his way over to the couch, settling in beside Ray and cringing at the ketchup that was currently oozing out of the bottom half of Ray’s hamburger. “Well Bill.” He said bitingly. “I went to school today, did my bullshit Senior Projects class, went to my studio classes, the usual.” He looked over at Ray and saw that drool was now joining the ketchup that had collected on his shirt and grimaced.

Hoosier nodded. “And how, in all your academic pursuits today, did you end up with a giant hickey on your neck?” He asked pointedly.

Joe tried to bite down on the grin spreading across his face. “Maybe I took Person up on his suggestion to jump on the first suitable dick to come my way.” 

Ray held his hand up for a high-five. “Hell yea brother.” He exclaimed around the soggy burger still jammed in his mouth.

Hoosier took a step forward and swatted Ray’s hand. “Don’t congratulate him.” He groused. “He didn’t find new dick, he’s still stuck on the old dick.” He turned to Joe. “You went to see Professor Hottie didn’t you?” He demanded, taking a seat in the armchair next to the couch.

Joe clutched his hand to his chest like some scandalized Victorian housewife. “I would never Hoosier. I am shocked and appalled that you would even suggest such a thing.” He batted his eyelashes and pursed his lips in a perfect ‘o’ of surprise.

Next to him Ray dropped the hamburger on the coffee table - making both Joe and Hoosier grimace at the ketchup and slobber that squelched out - and turned to him. “Did you fuck Professor Hottie homes? Cause that is some next level shit man!” 

Joe frowned at him and ducked out of the way of the ketchup flying from his lips. “Damn Ray, are you capable of eating without getting it all over yourself?” Ray shrugged but didn’t comment, he just gave Joe a pointed look. Joe rolled his eyes and looked over at Hoosier, who was giving him the same pointed look. “Will the both of you climb out of my ass? Fuck.” He growled, pushing himself off the couch. 

Hoosier snapped his hand out and closed it around Joe’s wrist. “As the only voice of reason here,” he said tersely. “I have to say: if you’re just doing this to get your dick wet, you need to reconsider.” Joe rolled his eyes and Hoosier tightened his grip on Joe’s wrist. “I’m fucking serious Joe. He could lose his job over this and even you’re not that big of an asshole.”

Joe shook his wrist free and glared at Hoosier. “Look, I don’t know okay but it’s fine. The only way he’d lose his job is if someone said something to the wrong person.” 

Hoosier clenched his jaw and stared hard at Joe. “Point taken.” He glanced over at Ray. “Are you capable of keeping your idiot mouth shut about this?” 

Ray mimed zipping his mouth closed and grinned at Joe. Joe rolled his eyes but nodded nonetheless. “Great, now that that’s settled I’ve got shit to work on.” As he made his way to his room he looked over his shoulder and saw both of them watching him. “Thanks for ruining my good mood by the way assholes.” He said and stuck his tongue out at them.

Hoosier gave him an insincere smile. “It’s what we’re here for dickhead.” He said dryly. 

Joe gave them the finger before he rounded the corner of the hallway. When he reached his room he shut the door with a little more force than necessary, just so they’d know - for sure - that he didn’t appreciate their meddling. He leaned his back against his closed door and considered his day. Maybe Hoosier had a point but he didn’t have to be such a dick about it. Sure, it would be better to just leave Web alone now, explain that it had been fun but he didn’t want to get David in trouble. He could suggest they keep in touch, maybe in the summer they could see if there was something more there. Joe wouldn’t be an undergrad anymore and certainly wouldn’t be one of David’s students by that point. There wouldn’t be any problem. Joe _could_ do those things. Joe _should_ do those things. He pulled out his phone and flopped on his bed, pulling up the text conversation he’d started with David. It was the smart and responsible thing to do.

****

When David had gotten home from work he’d stripped and gone straight into the shower, trying not to think about what had happened earlier that day. After he’d dried off and gotten dressed he had flopped down on the couch, head on one armrest, feet propped up on the other, and hadn’t moved. Nearly an hour later he was still there in his grey sweatpants and ratty t-shirt, hair still damp, with his hands folded over his chest. He kept going back and forth between ‘ _oh my god what have I done, I’m completely fucked_ ’ and _’this can work, it’s fine, stop worrying’_. He was just about to swing back around to working himself into a decent panic when his phone buzzed on the coffee table next to him. He rolled his head to glare at the device that had deigned to distract him from his misery. As the screen dimmed and then went black altogether he sighed and scooped it up off the table. It was a text message. He thumbed it open and saw it was from a number he didn’t recognize. 

**_"Hello Professor Hottie? I need your help with something. Seriously. I’ve got a big problem. Huge. MASSIVE ;)"_**

David groaned. This had to be Joe. He briefly considered not replying and going back to his angst but in the end he couldn’t help himself and quickly typed out a response. **" _I swear to God Joe if this is a dick pun…._ "** He chewed on his lip and waited for a response.

**" _...it was gonna be a dick pun. I thought you English nerds loved puns. Shakespeare was all about the dick pun_ "**

David couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped him. **" _You got me there but I don’t think I can handle a dick pun and being called ‘Professor Hottie’ in the same conversation. It’s just too much. Please tell me that's not my contact name._ "** David cringed to think that Joe had saved his number under that name. Of course, it was something Joe would do.

His phone buzzed again almost immediately. **" _Hell yea man, gotta keep it on the DL amirite? What if someone gets my phone, sees me sharing naughty texts and it’s got your name right there?_ "**

**" _You could just save my name as, I don’t know, ‘David’?? Crazy, I know._ "**

David bounced his foot restlessly and thought about what Joe had said about naughty texts. Was that what Joe wanted? David didn’t know and he certainly didn’t know if he should respond to it. He huffed out a breath and picked up his phone, typing and sending before Joe had even responded. " _ **Sharing naughty texts hmmm? Is that what you’re planning here? Are you trying to get me worked up with talk of Shakespeare’s love of dick puns?**_ " David reread what he’d written with one eye scrunched up and thought it was passable. A little flirty but still light and mostly joking. 

**_"No. If I really wanted to get you worked up I’d just send you a picture of some of the marks you left on me today... Like the bruises you sucked into my collarbones or the bite mark on my hip."_ **

David felt his breath get caught in his throat. “Holy shit.” He muttered, shifting uncomfortably and keenly aware of just how much he wanted that. “Why am I fucking doing this?” He muttered to himself as he typed out his response. **_"Wow. Yea that would work. Shit, even you just mentioning it has kind of got me worked up..."_** He felt a blush creeping up his neck and tried to ignore the slight tenting in his sweatpants. He’d been with Joe only a few hours ago, it was just unbecoming to be getting turned on from some text messages.

**_"Oh yea?? If I asked you to prove it would you?"_ **

David frowned at his phone screen trying to puzzle out what Joe meant by that. **_"What do you mean?"_**

His phone buzzed with a response immediately. **_"I mean that if me just talking about the things I’d do to get you worked up gets you worked up would you prove it? Are you still wearing those pants from before?"_**

David took a steadying breath and pressed the heel of his hand against his growing erection. He was pretty sure he knew what Joe was getting at but was still a bit confused. **_"No, I showered and changed into sweatpants."_**

**_"Show me."_ **

Webster swallowed thickly, his heart was racing in his chest and he felt a little shiver run down his spine. Joe knew what he wanted and apparently wasn’t afraid to go for it but David wasn’t sure he was that brave. **_"I don’t know...I’ve never really done...that...before."_**

He was working on a list of all the reasons he shouldn’t do what Joe had asked when his phone buzzed again. It was a picture. He could just make out the jut of Joe’s hipbones and the edge of the bruise that he had put there with his mouth. Joe had his jeans undone and pushed down his thighs and was cupping himself through his boxers. David groaned and closed his eyes, letting his hand wander back down his body, spreading his legs a bit wider and cupping himself through his pants. He growled and scooped his phone up, opening the camera up. “Fuck it.” He whispered to himself. He held his phone up, catching his torso and lower body in the frame. His t-shirt was rucked up a bit, exposing his hip bones and the trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants but he was pretty sure what Joe would notice most was the obvious outline of his erection. He tucked his thumb into the waistband of his sweats, splaying his fingers out so they were grazing the base of his dick and snapped the picture. Before he could rethink it he sent it. **_"That proof enough for you?"_** He typed out, enjoying the little flutter of fear and anticipation in his stomach. 

**_"No, I think I need to see more. Come on Web."_ **

Webster’s breath stuttered in his chest and his cock twitched in interest when he read Joe’s text. He was so turned on he didn’t even care that Joe was calling him ‘Web’. He ground the heel of his palm into the base of his dick before grabbing his phone. Without thinking about it, before he could talk himself out of it, he had his phone up and was shoving down his sweat pants. He grasped the base of his cock loosely and snapped the picture, sending it without even looking at it. **_"That better Lieb? Seen enough?"_**

It felt like eons passed while Webster waited in agony for Joe’s reply, unable to stop himself from stroking himself lightly. Even with the anxiety of having sent an actual dick pic to someone trying to creep in David was still painfully aroused.

**_"No god no web I don’t think I’ll ever have seen enough of ur beautiful cock. Fuck I was so desperate to have you fuck me today. I wanted it so long web you have no idea but I just needed it so bad needed you so bad shit look at you. Fuck web there is still so much I wanna do to you."_ **

Webster groaned and tightened his grip, forcing himself to keep his strokes slow and controlled. He fumbled with the phone, trying to type one handed and understood why it took Joe so long to reply. **_"Come on then Joe, it’s your turn now. Show me. Tell me."_**

David settled his phone on his chest and finally allowed himself to think about this afternoon, letting those memories add to the heat building at the base of his spine. He felt a little flutter of heat just behind his balls at the memory of Joe straddling his hips, panting with his head tossed back and exposing the graceful column of his neck. He was just starting to really get into his memories when he felt his phone buzz on his chest. The first message was another picture and when David opened it his vision went fuzzy around the edges. Joe had taken the picture from above him and David could just see the edge of his smirking mouth. He’d pulled his shirt up and bunched it under his armpits and shoved his boxers down to join his jeans around his thighs. His long fingers were wrapped around his cock, his thumb obviously brushing the head. David sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and groaned again. He loosened his grip on his own cock, rubbing his palm flat against the tip, smearing precome around and slicking up his hand. When his hand was slick enough he circled his fingers around his cock again. While he was still looking at the picture his phone buzzed again with a text from Joe. 

**_"I really wanna blow u long and slow... just keep u right on the edge, maybe teasin ur hole w my finger bt never pushing inside u...taking that thick cock all the way in and sucking hard then easing off and just lickin at the head...keep tht up until ur pulling on my hair and begging me to let u cum an d only when u think u can’t take anymore would I stop teasing and just swallow u fcking whole, fuck I wanna taste ur cum web I wanna watch u fall apart"_ **

David’s hips thrust up into his fist helplessly and he was gasping for breath. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” He panted as he fumbled at his phone, trying to bring up the keyboard. **_"Fuck Joe yes"_** He had to stop typing for a moment, overwhelmed by the image of Joe between his legs, working him over until he was begging for release. He tightened his grip and started stroking faster. **_"would you fuck me Joe? I want that, so bad, I need it."_** He hit send and dropped his phone next to him, freeing his other hand up to trail over his chest and abdomen. He dragged a nail over a nipple and arched his back into his own touch, imagining it was Joe’s hands on his body, Joe’s teeth and tongue and lips. He was fast approaching his release when he felt the phone buzz next to him.

**_"oh shit David fck yes I would fuck u. Shit I’m gonna cum tell me ur close"_ **

David could barely reply and hoped his autocorrect hadn’t horribly butchered his hastily typed message. **_"fuc i’m gonna cumm Joe fucken now"_** , he hit the send button and slammed his hand down, still clutching the phone tightly. He groaned and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, back arched, and thrust steadily into his hand. His breath was coming out in taut pants and he stuttered out a broken cry as he came over his hand and on his belly. As his breathing evened out he peeled his fingers from around his phone, noticing the red line digging into his palm from how tightly he had held it. 

**_"Shit David I haven’t cum like that since...well since this afternoon ;)"_ **

David couldn’t help but chuckle when he read Joe’s text. **_"Ha ha Joe."_** He sent his message and dropped his phone on the table. He pulled his t-shirt off and used it to clean himself up and then sat up and took a deep breath. His legs felt shaky but it was the good kind of shaky and he actually felt more at peace about the afternoon. With peace and a good orgasm apparently came hunger and he realized he hadn’t eaten yet. He detoured to his bedroom, throwing his dirty shirt in the hamper and grabbing a new t-shirt and then headed to the kitchen to scrounge up some food. When he had found some food - leftover pizza and a beer - and made it back to the living room he had three new texts from Joe.

**_"Hey I’m being serious, that was the most fun a guy can have ‘alone’"_ **

And then a few minutes after that:  
**_"You okay? I know you haven’t really done that before…"_**

And a few more minutes after that:  
**_"David?"_**

Webster huffed a quiet laugh and typed out a response. **_"Sorry, I was getting something to eat, not totally freaking out. No need to worry."_** He sent the message and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, setting his pizza next to him on the couch. He grabbed the TV remote and turned on his PVR, he was pretty sure he had a shark documentary saved on there from the other week. He had just hit play when his phone’s screen lit up with another message. 

**_"Good, I was worried I’d maybe scared you off…"_** and then it buzzed immediately again with another message. **_"and that would have been a waste of all my hard work ;) but now I can relax, so what are you doing for the rest of the night?"_**

David couldn’t help but smile a little at the message. Joe had been worried about him, and more than that, he wanted to keep talking to him. Not just about sex, but about anything. He felt an annoying little flutter in his stomach and covered it with a swallow of beer. **_"Watching a documentary on bull sharks. What are you doing?"_**

He was pleasantly surprised when Joe texted back almost immediately. **_"Documentary on sharks? Are you an even bigger nerd than you’ve let on? And I’m just working."_**

David spluttered and choked on his drink before replying. **_"Working?! What???"_** All those good feelings from before were starting to slip away but once again, before he could really start to freak out his phone buzzed. When he opened the message it was a picture. He clicked on the image and saw a computer monitor with some half finished piece of artwork and what was obviously Joe’s hand holding a weird looking pen and tablet contraption. 

**_"Relax you weirdo I’m at home. I do commissions for artwork. Which is stupid while I’m in school buuut I need the money so *shrug*"_ **

David spent the next three hours texting back and forth with Joe. They covered a lot of the basic getting to know you talk: _Where are you from?_ San Fransisco for Joe, New England for David, both here because of the University, 4 years for Joe, 7 for David. _Family?_ Oldest of 6 for Joe, middle of 3 for David. _Future plans?_ Finishing his book for David, _’Who the fuck knows?’_ according to Joe. _Interests?_ Marine life and sailing for David, comic books, art and movies for Joe. Occasionally the conversation would go on a tangent. Joe wanted to know what David was writing a book about and when Webster told him it was about sharks Joe found that incredibly amusing. When he told David he loved comic books it was accompanied by a long rant about how ‘you English snobs’ didn’t think comic books were ‘real literature’ even though the form had undergone drastic changes since it’s inception. This led to a discussion about how originally all fiction was considered to be low brow and Joe making suggestions about comics Webster should read. Joe would send him picture updates on how his commission was coming along and David would ask questions about what kind of work he would do for people. 

David’s documentary had finished and he had tucked himself up on his couch with a book when he finally realized how late it was getting and how long he’d been talking with Joe. His eyelids were starting to droop, his neck was starting to get stiff from staring at his phone, and he figured it was probably time for him to get to bed.

**_"Not that I haven’t enjoyed talking with you but I should probably get to bed now. Some of us have work in the morning."_ **

**_"And some of us have class in the morning but U know what they say. No rest for the wicked ;)"_ **

David huffed a laugh and smiled a private, fond smile. **_"Well try to get some rest, wouldn’t want you getting worn out."_**

While he waited for a reply he got up and got ready for bed - brushing his teeth and rinsing his face - before stripping back the covers and crawling underneath. Before he turned off his bedside lamp he scooped his phone charger off the ground and plugged his phone in, checking his messages one more time. There was a message from Joe, and when he read it - a simple _goodnight_ and a little kissy face emoji - he felt an unbidden warmth spread throughout his chest.

****

The rest of the week passed uneventfully and in similar fashion. David went to work and Joe went to class and they would text each other intermittently throughout the day.

___ ___ ___

_Joe [8:47am]_  
[MMS: Joe’s face, looking grumpy and partially obscured by blankets]  
mornings are for fucking suckers 

**David [8:55am]  
** [MMS: picture of a coffee cup]  
Good morning sunshine. Coffee usually helps with being awake. 

_Joe [9:01am]  
bring me coffeeee? :)) I’ll give you morning blowjobs_

**David [9:10am]  
Tempting, but I just got to work. Sorry, you’ll have to scrounge for your own coffee this time**

_Joe [9:12am]  
You disappoint me Professor Hottie_

___ ___ ___

_Joe [5:49pm]  
What do you mean you’ve never seen Game of Thrones? How have you never seen Game of Thrones?! It’s like the most popular show on television right now…_

**David [5:57pm]  
I don’t know, I just haven’t seen it! I don’t watch a lot of television!**

_Joe [6:05pm]  
No. I don’t accept this. Sure GoT totally butchered the fucking books and what is with their obsession with rape? Seriously. But still! Fuck, I bet you watch shit like big bang theory or some garbage_

**David [6:11pm]  
I do not watch Big Bang Theory. I mostly watch the news, and nature documentaries and...well...I do have one guilty pleasure but that’s my secret**

**David [6:12pm]  
And you’re not really making me want to watch Game of Thrones**

_Joe [6:15pm]  
Omg what’s ur guilty pleasure show????????_

**David [6:18pm]  
Hahaha yea I’m definitely not telling you**

_Joe [6:21pm]  
Don’t worry Web I’m gonna figure it out_

___ ___ ___

**David [11:47am]  
Joe, I don’t get how me saying I enjoyed a lunch once at Chez Panisse makes me a ‘pretentious hipster douchebag’**

_Joe [11:53am]  
OK shark nerd it just does trust me that fucking paleo diet hipster bullshit_

**David [12:01pm]  
My sister was in town and wanted to go!**

_Joe [12:05pm]  
I’m changing your name to Professor Hipster Douchebag_

**David [12:07pm]  
That’s actually worse than Professor Hottie. Guess I’m never sucking your dick again…**

_Joe [12:10pm]  
Excuse you I happen to like Professor Hipster Douchebag and his cocksucker lips so settle down_

___ ___ ___

_Joe [9:22pm]  
Is it Downton Abbey?_

**David [9:24pm]  
No. What is that?**

_Joe [9:29pm]  
Not important. Is it Two and Half Men?_

**David [9:32pm]  
Okay now I’m offended**

_Joe [9:37pm]  
Gilmore Girls?_

___ ___ ___

_Joe [3:31pm]  
The school year has only just started and your boy Leckie’s better half is already hounding me about what I’m going to do for my final project. I swear Web she’s more invested in me getting my degree than I am_

**David [4:01pm]  
Vera’s a good teacher and it’s nice that she’s taken such an interest in you. She just wants you to succeed**

_Joe [4:08pm]  
Jesus thanks for the late reply dickmuncher :P but yea I get it and she’s awesome, she is. Shit I don’t think I’d still be here (school I mean) if not for her but ya know now she’s got expectations and shit what happened to setting the bar low and never failing?_

**David [4:15pm]  
Oh I’m sorry that I have a job :P No cellphones in class remember Joe? And I’ve seen your artwork Joe and I don’t think you do want to set the bar low. You’re really talented and Vera knows that. Don’t worry, you’re not going to disappoint anyone.**

___ ___ ___

_Joe [10:01pm]  
Real Housewives of Orange County?_

_Joe [10:05pm]  
Say Yes To The Dress?_

_Joe [10:10pm]  
16 and Pregnant?_

_Joe [10:11pm]  
Flava of Love?_

_Joe [10:19pm]  
The Bachelor?_

_Joe [10:23pm]  
Survivor?_

**David [10:25pm]  
JOE!**

**David [10:26pm]  
I see you’re on a reality tv kick but it’s none of those and I’m offended you’d think it would be**

___ ___ ___

**David [12:13am]  
Joe, I have to go to bed. Stop sending me shark memes**

_Joe [12:15am]_  
[MMS: picture of Stop! Hammertime. shark meme]  
Can’t stop won’t stop never stop 

___ ___ ___

_Joe [10:03am]  
Is it Teletubbies? I bet it’s Teletubbies._

**David [10:06am]  
_message read at 10:06 am_**

****

___ ___ ___

It wasn’t until Friday rolled around that David started to get nervous. He hadn’t actually _seen_ Joe since that day in his office - his office which had presented it’s own challenges since then. The morning after when David dropped down into his chair it rocked back, squeaking it’s protest, and he was struck with the memory of being bare ass with a lap full of Joe on this same chair. He then spent a good fifteen minutes just staring at his desk, remembering how good it had felt to have Joe bent over it. He couldn’t deny how satisfying it had been to just say ‘fuck it’ and let go a little. Making Joe squirm and moan under his ministrations had been pretty satisfying as well. Although he was enjoying talking with Joe, and had decided that having sex with Joe in his office had been great, he was still nervous to see him again. As Friday morning trudged closer to Friday afternoon he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be seeing Joe until the class they shared. The class where David was Professor Webster and Joe was his student. This was the point - David knew - that he should start worrying about the ramifications of what had happened. David was well aware that the whole thing was wildly unethical. He was in a position of authority over Joe and now his judgement and objectivity had been wildly compromised. Though if he were really honest with himself ( _which was not something Webster was especially good at_ ) his judgement and objectivity had been compromised before he ever slept with Joe. He _knew_ these were things he should be worried about; and these concerns crossed his mind but he only noticed them with a sort of detached neutrality. The ethical dilemma David currently found himself embroiled in was not what was making him nervous. Mostly, he was just concerned that when he finally did see Joe again he would do something stupid and embarrassing. He had spent an embarrassing amount of time glued to his phone, texting with Joe, and all that really did was solidify one thing for David. He could not understand why Joe was so damn interested in him. Joe loved comic books, was well versed in TV shows and movies, was adamant that David’s lack of knowledge in either of those areas was a travesty. He was stubborn and bullheaded and could ( _had_ ) turn a simple conversation about local restaurants into an argument. He was sardonic, cynical, passionate, and creative and David was pretty sure he had little offer Joe except for the thrill of something taboo and dangerous. Joe was texting him regularly, more than anyone else ever had, but he hadn’t yet suggested seeing each other again. They didn’t talk about what they were doing; was this a relationship or just a friends with benefits type deal? David didn’t usually do casual relationships. Even after only a few days he already knew he was getting caught up in Joe’s tidal wave and when Joe was done with him; when the excitement had worn off; David wasn’t sure what would be left of him. 

David Webster was becoming quite certain that he was well and truly fucked.


End file.
